We landed soon after the captain's boat did. There being no midshipman in the cutter, we all stepped on sh.o.r.e. One of the men spoke to the c.o.xswain in a low tone, and I was ordered back into the cutter. I refused and stated that I was going to a saloon for a drink. I walked away rather quickly. Looking back, I saw that all the men excepting one were running after me. Then I ran as fast as possible towards a steep rocky hill. I was gaining on them rapidly. Some perpendicular rocks prevented my going farther in that direction. Then I turned around, intending to run down the hill and break through the crowd for another race. Just as I got near them, I stumbled, falling on my face and rolling over into a hole full of muddy water. I was badly hurt and my nose was bleeding freely. They took me to the cutter and pulled off to the frigate.

On our arrival all had to go on deck and stand in a line toeing a seam, to be searched for smuggled liquor by the ship's corporal, the lieutenant looking on. Then the c.o.xswain reported me for attempting to run away. The lieutenant saw that I was covered with mud and blood. He asked me if the report was true. I answered "Yes," and told him that the whole boat's crew were a dirty lot of curs for bringing me back after inducing me to run. The lieutenant looked at them all slowly, and then at me. With a contemptuous sneer, he said, "Thank you, men," and sent them forward, at the same time ordering me to be put in irons. The ship's corporal led me away below, at the same time growling about the trouble he was having on my account. About half an hour afterward my old friend, the corporal, made his appearance. He released me from irons and escorted me on deck. The lieutenant asked me if I was badly hurt, and all particulars in regard to my running away. Much to my surprise, he told me to resume my work, that he was to blame in a measure himself, as he had no right to allow a prisoner to leave the ship.

My first business was to see the c.o.xswain and some of the boat's crew and give them a good plain cursing. In a few days afterward, Matt's time in the "solitary" expired and I was locked up in his place. One half pound of hardtack per day and one quart of water was my allowance.

Nothing very interesting occurred during the time, excepting once when the captain's steward came into the store-room one day for some wine. He spoke to me through the small iron-barred window which was in the part.i.tion on the store-room side. He told me to get my tin cup and hold it up to the bars. With a piece of paper he made a funnel and filled my cup full of good sherry wine. Crackers and raisins were also given me, so I had a high old time all to myself that day. The twenty-eight days expired and all my punishment was over. Jimmy relieved me, and when he went into the door it was the last time we ever saw each other. After all the hard times and many sc.r.a.pes we had got into together, we parted without a chance to shake hands. I never heard of him afterward. Twice while in Liverpool, England, I went to his address, 17 Lower Frederick Street, but no one knew anything about him.

Matt, the half-breed, and I got to be friendly and both of us were determined to get away from the frigate. Our only chance was to swim ash.o.r.e, we not being trusted in any of the boats. It was necessary to wait for a night when there would be no moon and a flood-tide running in from the sea. In the meantime, to avert suspicion, I started making my new clothing. The blue cloth for my best trousers at Government prices was one pound sterling. That I had smuggled from the ship and on sh.o.r.e, to be sold. I was to receive half of what it would sell for. In a few days I received five milreis and a long skin of casha.s.s. The casha.s.s is put in skins such as are used for bologna sausage. In that form it can easily be secreted about a sailor's clothing and smuggled on board. The casha.s.s I gave to Matt for safe-keeping, as we should need a good drink before taking our long swim. The five milreis in silver I put in a small bag hanging round my neck. Every night we would sneak up to the gun deck. The prospects not being favourable, we would postpone our trip.

One night while I was awake, the ship's corporal came to my hammock with a lantern in his hands. He took a look at me and then went away. I knew then that our plan to go was known. After that I remained in my hammock and let Matt do the prospecting. Finally, one morning, we concluded to make the attempt that night. During the day I had my bag from the rack to do some sewing, and Matt came to me with a blue flannel shirt and asked me to put it in my bag for a while, which, unfortunately, I did.

That night the corporal came to my hammock twice before midnight; then I dozed off to sleep and was awakened by some one feeling my face. It was Matt. He was quite drunk and insisted upon my taking a drink from the skin. He said he was then going to the gun deck to get a rope ready for getting into the water and would return for me when all was ready.

That was the last I saw of him. I waited for a while. The effects of the strong liquor put me into a sound sleep. The next thing I knew was that the crew were holystoning the gun deck. The noise of the stones right over my head had awakened me. I put on my clothes and tried to sneak in among them un.o.bserved, but the attempt was a failure. The boatswain saw me. "h.e.l.lo, Mike, where did you come from? I thought you had gone ash.o.r.e with Matt," was the salute I received.

It seems that when all hands were called, we were missed at once. Matt's hammock, being the nearest, was examined. He being gone, it was concluded that I was with him. I tried to play innocent, but it was of no use. After breakfast I was ordered before the first lieutenant and reported for not turning out to scrub decks, and then for aiding and abetting desertion. My bag was brought from the rack and examined. The blue cloth was missing. A stolen shirt, with the owner's name under the collar, was found. Matt stole that shirt. It was the one he had asked me to keep for him. Conduct detrimental to discipline in Her Majesty's service was another charge. The lieutenant then laid down the law to me in splendid style, and ended thus: "Now, Michael Murray, you have made considerable trouble on this frigate, and I shall see that you get 'four dozen.' Then you can desert--that is, if you get the chance. Corporal, put him in irons." When the corporal put the padlock on the bar, he said: "Mike, my lad, you're in for it now!"

About five days afterward I was taken on the quarter-deck again. The lieutenant wanted to know who brought the casha.s.s on board to Matt and myself. I replied that I knew nothing about it and that I had never seen Matt with the liquor in his possession. Then I was told that Matt's body had been found floating in the bay. He had on all his clothes excepting cap and shoes. Inside of his shirt was found the skin containing a small quant.i.ty of casha.s.s. He must have been quite drunk or he would not have tried to swim such a distance with his clothes on; or it may be that he fell overboard and that that was the reason he did not come back for me as he promised.

"Four dozen" on an English man-of-war means flogging with the cat-o'-nine-tails. The "cat" is a hardwood handle eighteen inches long, to one end of which are attached nine pieces of hard lines, about one eighth of an inch in diameter and eighteen inches long. At the end of each tail is a hard knot. When punishment is to be inflicted the "tails"

are soaked in strong brine. That makes them hard and heavy. A wooden grating from a hatchway is placed on end, resting against the bulwarks.

All hands are called to witness punishment. Everybody must be present, from the captain to the powder boys. The prisoner is stripped naked to the waist, his feet are lashed to the bottom of the grating, and his arms are stretched out full length and fastened. The face and breast are then close to the grating, with no chance remaining of moving the body. The ship's surgeon watches to see that the prisoner does not die while being punished. The boatswain's mate is on the left side. He swings the "cat" over his head with the right hand, at the same time drawing the tails through his left hand. At every stroke nine stripes are cut on the prisoner's back, the knots at the same time making little holes in the skin, about two seconds elapsing between each stroke. After two dozen strokes have been given, the boatswain's mate steps to the other side of the prisoner and gives the remaining two dozen, the skin being cut by that means into diamond-shaped pieces. By the time the punishment is over the man will be covered with blood and greatly exhausted.

I had been keeping very quiet for the last few days in order to avert suspicion. I had been examining the old shackles, and found two that would release me from the bar at any time. One was quite large. By taking off my shoe I could squeeze my foot from the bar. The other shackle must have been an odd one, as it had extra large eyes, and would slip nicely over the k.n.o.b at the end of the bar. I laid them on the deck to have them handy, then I sent for the corporal to take me to the water-closet. When I returned I picked up the shackles that I wanted and placed them over my ankles. When he had gone I put all the other shackles away out of reach so there could be no mixing up. My mind rested easy then. I was having a chance to go before the flogging, instead of after, as the lieutenant proposed. At last, the day for my punishment was set. The captain had come on board the frigate and my conduct was reported. I was brought before him and the charges read to me. Orders were given to have me flogged with the "Thieves'"

cat-o'-nine-tails at eight o'clock the next morning. "Four dozen lashes on the bare back." The "Thieves' cat" meant two knots in the tail instead of one. I was to receive extra punishment for a crime I never committed, but the finding of the shirt in my bag had been sufficient.

CHAPTER IX

THE ESCAPE

When the corporal took me below again I asked him to let me get some clean clothes from my bag. I selected a pair of white duck trousers and a white shirt. I wanted the lightest suit that I could get. The corporal probably thought that I intended dressing neatly for the whipping in the morning. I was very particular in putting the shackles on my ankles, the one with the large eyes going on the left leg, so as to be at the k.n.o.b end of the bar. The big one went on the right leg. I could not prevent myself from grinning while he was so carefully locking the end of the bar. He gave the lock an extra pull, to satisfy himself that it was fast, and walked off. My hammock, instead of being lashed up sideways, as customary, was merely rolled loosely and left on deck, so that I could spread it out for sleeping at night-time. I made a sort of lounge with it and took life easy, for the time being. At nine in the evening, the midshipmen and clerks got into their hammocks, leaving their clothes on top of their sea-chests. I spread out my bed and lay down. My position had to be straight out, on my back, as the iron bar had to be taken into consideration. Soon all but myself were asleep. Time pa.s.sed very slowly. I knew the corporal would have a look at me about midnight and that then I should be ready for my trip. I could tell the time by hearing the ship's bell striking every half hour. About one in the morning, I was getting very uneasy in my mind, as I knew it was about time for the tide to change and run out to sea--a very serious matter for me. At last my friend made his appearance. Everything was secure and satisfactory, so he went away. Then I commenced operations. First, I got out of the shackles, and taking off all my clothing, tied it in a neat, flat bundle. My money and knife I left hanging to my neck. Next I gathered up some clothing belonging to the midshipmen and laid it on my bed. Two pairs of shoes went next. One pair was stuck in the shackles, the other pair was stuck, heels downward, into the first pair. Then two caps were stuck together for a head. The whole, being covered over with my blanket, made a very good dummy. I was highly pleased with my midnight work. The toes, sticking straight up, gave a very artistic effect to the job. Taking my hammock lashing and bundle, I went to the midshipmen's messroom.

With a stool to stand on, I took a view of the harbour from the small port-hole--about twenty inches square. These holes are open in harbour only for ventilation and light on the lower deck. At sea they must be kept closed and lashed securely. As I expected, the tide was ebbing out to sea. The ship had swung around "head on" to the city. I had no choice but to go, however. Fastening my clothes to the end of the lashing, I lowered them about eight feet, not intending to get them wet. Securing the lashing to an eyebolt, inward, I got out of the port-hole and let myself down into the water. The clothes had been dropped too low and got wet. That made them too heavy to fasten on the top of my head as I had intended. I released the bundle from the lashing, keeping it in my left hand, and then I drifted past the frigate's stern with the tide. In a few minutes I commenced swimming at an angle from the frigate, and then headed for the city. After a long swim I began to get tired and was breathing hard from exertion. The bundle worried me, and the now swift tide became too much to contend with. I had got only a short distance past the frigate, and was convinced that I could not reach the city.

Then I turned back, repa.s.sed the frigate, and headed for the southern sh.o.r.e. The tide, at the same time, carried me towards the entrance of the harbour. I was in hopes of getting to land before I should be carried past the Sugar Loaf. As a last recourse I could let the clothing go, and that I would not do until it became a necessity. As I was swimming at an angle with the tide, not so much exertion was needed.

Much to my relief I saw the dim outline of a vessel to my left. I then swam with the tide, and in a few minutes I was holding on the anchor-chain. I had a good rest and, at the same time, thought what was best for me to do. I could easily get on board at the bow, but if it were an English vessel my name would be "Dennis," sure enough. I proposed to take no more chances than necessary that night. Finally I let go of the chain and drifted to the stern. There I found the vessel's boat in the water. I got the bundle into the boat and climbed in myself.

The first thing I did was to read the vessel's name. I was then satisfied that she was a Brazilian coaster. I wrung the water from my clothes and was soon dressed up. There were no oars in the boat; if there had been I would have cut the painter and sculled with a single oar for the western sh.o.r.e. When I felt strong enough, I climbed up the painter to the taffrail and got on deck. No one was to be seen, so I commenced an investigation. She was a brig. On each side of the quarter-deck was a cubby-hole--a small white house with sliding-doors, just large enough for a man to sleep in. The starboard one was empty, so I knew the captain was on sh.o.r.e. In the port side was the mate, asleep.

The cool night wind blowing on my clothes made me quite chilly. Not having decided exactly what to do, I was standing by the wheel making up my mind. A crisis was at hand. The mate crawled out of his hole, about half awake, rubbing his eyes. He caught a glimpse of me, all dressed in white, standing close to the wheel. Before I could say a word he gave a terrible yell; then he stuttered out, "Por Dios, que es esta?"--"For G.o.d's sake, what is that?" Staggering back a few steps, he turned around and ran forward, disappearing down the forecastle scuttle. Then I went to the taffrail and got the boat's painter ready for being cast off in an instant; taking my knife from my neck, I opened it and fastened the lanyard around my right wrist. If there was to be a hostile reception, I intended to cast the boat loose and jump overboard. With the wind and strong tide, I would land somewhere, even if I had no oars. So I waited for developments. In a few minutes five men came out of the forecastle.

They came aft in single file, the cook at the head with a lighted candle in his hand, the mate bringing up the rear. Then, in spite of myself, I had to laugh. It was the only time in my life at sea that I ever saw a candle on ship's deck. There are two articles which an old-time salt-water sailor has the most supreme contempt for--namely, a lantern and an umbrella. When they got close to me they were a surprised lot of men. By way of introduction, I said, "Yo soy un saltador Ingles"--"I am an English deserter." They all commenced to laugh at the mate. We soon became quite friendly, all hands considering the whole affair as a good joke. Opening the cabin skylight, they told me to get in and have a good sleep. The vessel was loaded with mahogany timber. The cabin bulkheads had been taken out and the lumber loaded through the stern ports, completely filling the brig from stem to stern. The extra sails were put in the skylight on top of the cargo. That was my bed, and a good sleep I had, even if my clothes were wet.

About seven o'clock they woke me and gave me a breakfast. I exchanged all my neat clothes with them, I getting a ragged blue jumper and overalls and a ship hat with the rim all frayed out. My shoes, stockings, and knife I retained for my own use. The boat had been hauled alongside and loaded with firewood to be taken ash.o.r.e. When ready I got into it, and, taking an oar, helped row for sh.o.r.e. The mate gave me a friendly parting and wished me success. I thanked him, and said: "Cuidado por los brujos!"--"Look out for ghosts!" When close to sh.o.r.e I asked to be landed on the beach, as it would not do for me to go near the Government dock. They pulled close to a ledge of rocks and I jumped out and thanked them for their kindness. Away I went for the railroad track.

Having heard that English contractors were building a new branch, it was my intention to offer them my valuable services. I started down the track quite lively and independent. The sun became very warm and my feet sore. Then I got tired of continually looking at the telegraph-poles, each one being numbered, like houses in a city. What the reason for that was I never found out. Every station I came to I was ordered off the track, but the explanation that I was to work on the road was satisfactory. To my inquiries as to how far the new road was situated, the answer was always the same, "A few leagues farther." My five milreis now came into requisition. Some time in the afternoon I went into a general store and purchased a gla.s.s of wine, some crackers and cheese.

After my feast was over, I continued my journey. Soon I had come among the coffee plantations. They looked like large cherry orchards with the trees full of ripe fruit. Two coffee grains flat side together, surrounded by a spongy fibre, then a tough, smooth skin, the whole about the size of a large cherry--that is the coffee bean while on the tree.

I do not know how many miles I walked on the Terro Carril de Dom Pedro III, but I was well tired out, and my head dizzy, from looking at the numbers on the telegraph-poles. The same information--"A few leagues farther on"--was becoming monotonous. Four milreis had been expended for food. With but one milreis left I was getting discouraged. Suddenly I changed my mind, and turned back for Rio de Janeiro. At the first station I was ordered off the track. Then I had to walk on the wagon road. One evening, about dusk, I arrived at the city, tired, hungry, and footsore. Two "dumps"--large copper coins worth forty reis each--was the last of my money. I invested one dump for a piece of cocoanut, the other for bread. That was the last food I ever ate on Brazilian soil. I had often heard sailors joking about "Mahogany Hotel-on-the-Beach," and there I went for a night's lodging. A large pile of mahogany timber hewed square for shipping, some pieces being several feet shorter than others, would make a s.p.a.ce large enough for a man to sleep in. No doubt but that it was a very valuable edifice, but, at the same time, very uncomfortable. My apartment was about eight feet in length and only twenty inches in height and width. Early in the morning I was out of bed, with no money nor breakfast, hardly knowing what to do. There was only one thing to be done, that was to get on some vessel and get away from the city. While walking around the docks, I met the "runner" from Portuguese Joe's boarding-house. He was an American. I tried to avoid him, but it was useless. He had seen and recognised me.

"Halloa, how long have you been ash.o.r.e?" he asked.

"Oh, quite a long time," I replied.

"See here, Murray, I know all about your deserting. Come down to the house and stay until we can get you away."

No, I would not take any chances in a boarding-house.

"You want to ship, don't you? Come with me and I will put you on a vessel right off."

"How much in advance?"

"Eighteen dollars," he answered.

Then I told him how I was fixed, and also that he could ship me and keep all the advance money for his trouble.

CHAPTER X

THE SPORT OF THE WAVES

We at once went to the vessel. The captain, after asking a few questions, took us into the cabin, and I signed the articles for a voyage to Richmond, Va., as an able seaman, at fifteen dollars a month.

I was then given an advance note for eighteen dollars, which I handed to the runner. I felt perfectly safe then, knowing that the note was not payable until just forty-eight hours after the vessel left port. That fact would prevent him from giving me up for the reward from the frigate. My new vessel was a swift-sailing American clipper bark--the name I have forgotten. The slaves were bringing large bags of coffee on their backs and dropping them on deck. In a couple of days the cargo was completed. There being a fair wind, the topsails were hoisted and sheeted borne alongside the dock. The lines to the dock were cast off, and our voyage to the United States began. I was aloft, loosing the main royal, as we pa.s.sed close by the old Madagascar. I took off my old straw hat and waved it at the men on deck as they watched the Yankee clipper go past. I was perfectly safe then. Within an hour we had pa.s.sed the Sugar Loaf. That was the last time in my life that I was to see the beautiful harbour of Rio de Janeiro.

What a contrast between the bark and the brig Grenfalls! It was child's play to steer now. A slight movement of the wheel would keep the vessel on the course. We had dry quarters on deck, fine weather, and plenty of good food and water. The only thing unusual that occurred was the large number of flying-fish that dropped on deck during the night-time. As many as fifty would be found in the morning. They are about the size of fresh-water herring. While flying they appear like streaks of bright silver. The flight is only for a short distance, however. As soon as their wings become dry they drop at once. The dolphins are their greatest enemy. In the equatorial regions, or "doldrums," as it is called, we had the usual experience--the sea as smooth as gla.s.s, no air stirring except in "cat's-paws" and coming from different directions. As soon as the little ripples would be seen on the water, the back yards would have to be braced in the proper direction to take advantage of what little wind was coming. Day after day it was the same. At last we got a steady wind and were soon on the American coast. Being in north lat.i.tude, the days were rapidly becoming shorter and the weather very cold and stormy. I suffered very much from the want of warm clothing. A shirt and pair of drawers had been given me by a shipmate. Those and the suits I had changed for with the Brazilians were all that I then possessed. The latter part of December we arrived at Richmond. I was paid off, seven dollars and fifty cents being the amount due me. A cheap suit of clothes was bought with that money, and I was again in a strange city "dead broke." I had one consolation, however, in knowing that I had quit being proxy for Mike Murray.

The large schooner Onrust was in the ca.n.a.l at Richmond loaded with cement for Fort Taylor at Key West and the fort on the Dry Tortugas Island. My late shipmates and myself shipped on her by the month, she being a coasting vessel. It was a novel experience for us all to be on a schooner. Everything was so different from a square-rigged ship. The captain was also the owner. Economy was his motto. Instead of eating in the forecastle, we had our meals in the cabin, the captain acting as host. None of the crew felt as comfortable as if feeding in sailor style and all etiquette dispensed with. In the forecastle was a small box stove, and that was a nuisance. The watch below would make a wood fire and go to sleep. It would only be a short time before the fire would be out and then we would wake up shivering with the cold atmosphere. As yet I did not enjoy the luxury of a bed or blankets. My finances, since leaving the frigate, had been at a low point. Besides the trouble below, we felt the cold more severely when on deck. All hands agreed on one point--that the stove was a nuisance. That was my only experience with a fire in the forecastle during my life on the sea. No matter how cold the weather, clothing wet or dry, a sailor never catches cold on the ocean if he will keep away from a stove. We sailed, instead of being towed, down the James River. When near Fortress Monroe, the main boom snapped short off near the jaws. Then there was trouble. We put into Norfolk for a new boom. Everything being ready, we hoisted sail for a new start. And such a job to get the main and foresails up on that brute of a schooner!

But our experience was yet to come. In a few days we were rounding Cape Hatteras and a heavy gale came up. Then was the time the schooner showed what she could do. The main-sail had to be lowered for reefing. The hour was about midnight, and a dark, stormy winter night it was. The captain was steering, as all the men were needed for reefing, the cook included.

The first thing the Onrust did was to fall off into the trough of the sea, and in the Gulf Stream, where we were at the time, the waves were mighty lively. Then over the rails came the water and swashed around the decks, knee deep. The cook had a nice lot of firewood neatly piled up handy for use. That was travelling around in all directions, the objective point being the sailors' shins. Suddenly the main boom got loose and swung from one quarter to the other. It was "thump, thump,"

and sparks of fire the size of a baseball were flying over our worthy captain's head. The sheet blocks worked on heavy iron travellers, and every roll of the schooner swung the heavy boom with terrific force. All we could do was to look on and wait for the captain to get his craft head on to the sea. Bang went the boom. It had snapped short off near the jaws. Now both ends were loose, and affairs were becoming unpleasant for us "square-rigged" sailors. The heavy cargo of cement was much below the water-line, and there being no yards or heavy rigging aloft to counterbalance it, made the schooner roll extra quick and lively. The boom was very long and about fourteen inches in diameter. How it did rattle over the top of the cabin! At last, with the use of ropes, we managed to secure it. The main-sail, in the meantime, had been having its share of the fun, much to our discomfort. A storm-sail was brought from below and set. As that needed no boom or gaff, we had but little trouble to get the schooner under control again. Next in order was to save the main-sail. About fifty knots that fastened the sail had to be untied, and they being wet, made the knots hard to loosen. The boom was lying diagonally, partly on the cabin and over the port quarter. There was a narrow pa.s.sageway between the cabin and the bulwarks. I was in the pa.s.sageway at work, with my head between the top edge of the cabin and the boom. In trying to unfasten a foot stop I poked my head a little too far. When the next roll came the boom moved just enough to give my head a most unmerciful squeeze. I saw more stars to the square inch than could be seen with the Lick telescope! The pain actually lifted me off my feet from the deck. When the boom rolled back, I dropped to the deck all in a heap. Had the boom moved one half inch farther, my skull would have been crushed. I have had many narrow escapes from death since, but that night occurred the closest call of all. When the gale abated, the boom was taken on deck and spliced and then placed in position again.

The captain was the chief carpenter.

In a short time we were in warm lat.i.tudes, and well pleased to get away from a northern winter. Pa.s.sing through the Florida Keys, everything was delightful and interesting. The water was very clear. In calm weather the ocean's bottom could be plainly seen at twenty fathoms' depth. White coral was everywhere--the islands formed of it. It was the coral that made the water so transparent. On our arrival at Key West, part of the cement was landed at Fort Taylor. Then we sailed for the Dry Tortugas and landed the balance. The latter place was only a small island.

Nothing but broken coral and sh.e.l.ls were to be seen. The fort was built of brick, and about one third completed at that time. Little fishing smacks kept the place supplied with fish and green turtles. That was the first time that I saw the red snapper. It is a beautiful large fish, and excellent eating. Several wrecking schooners were in the harbour. The crews seemed to have a fine time. Their pay was a certain share of what was taken from the numerous wrecks. Piracy and wrecking meant almost the same thing in those days. One of the wreckers and myself wished to exchange places, but my captain would not consent. The schooners were about fifty or sixty tons burthen, with fourteen to twenty men for a crew. Our vessel was about five hundred men for a ton and only four men for a crew. Our main boom was larger than any mast in their whole fleet.

To hoist sail for them was only child's play. With us it was a big job.

On leaving Tortugas we sailed for Mobile, Ala. On our arrival in port I severed connections with the Onrust, at the same time making a vow that if ever I shipped on a fore-and-after again, it would be a smaller craft. I went to a sailor boarding-house, and remained on sh.o.r.e for three weeks. Then I shipped on the C. C. Duncan for Liverpool, England.

Eighteen dollars per month was the pay, and thirty-six dollars in advance. It was a fine, large American ship, a thousand tons burthen.

The owners were the banking firm of Duncan, Sherman & Co., No. 17 Wall Street, New York City. The crew was composed of Swedes and Norwegians, excepting three young Americans and myself. I was the only sailor shipped in Mobile, the rest having been on board for a number of months.

To show the difference in cargoes, I will describe the loading of this ship with cotton. In the first place, a hundred tons of stone ballast had to be placed in the bottom. The bales of cotton at the warehouse were put under powerful steam presses and reduced to one half the original size. The old bands were tightened with levers, and two extra bands added. Then the bale was sent to the ship and stowed as closely as possible; then jack-screws were used, and a s.p.a.ce made for an extra bale to be jammed in, and, tier by tier, the cotton was screwed in by men who made that work a specialty. Their pay was from three to five dollars a day, with board included. The cargo was a solid, compact ma.s.s. The bales averaged about five hundred pounds each, and yet, with that heavy weight, the ship would not stand full sail in a moderate breeze. About two weeks after leaving Mobile we had a severe gale. While close reefing the main top-sail, one of the seamen was pulled over forward of the yard by the sail, and instantly killed as he struck the deck.

On that trip we saw a vessel, about two miles to windward of us, struck by a heavy squall. Its light sails were quickly furled, and the top-sails lowered. All preparations were made on our ship to do the same. We waited quite a while, but no squall came. Not a rope had to be let go. The wind must have shot high up in the clouds and pa.s.sed over us. About six weeks after leaving Mobile we arrived off Holyhead. There a large tug-boat took us in tow, and we were soon going up the Mersey River, and at anchor, waiting for high tide in order to go into dock.

While coming up the river we were boarded by the custom-house officers.

All hands were ordered to bring out their tobacco. Then the search of the ship began in earnest. With long, sharp-pointed steel wires they prodded into everything and every place where tobacco could be hidden.

It was understood that what could be found would be confiscated. Much to their disgust, none was found. What the officers had in the cabin was put into a state-room, and the door fastened with the custom-house seal.

This was my first trip to England. I'd had a good description of Liverpool from sailors, and yet I was surprised at what was to be seen.

Each dock is an immense large basin, built of solid stone masonry, with large store-houses surrounding it, the whole being inside of a high wall, a large gate opening into the city. Policemen and custom-house officers patrol it day and night. Nothing can pa.s.s without examination.